She lies there dead,
A haggard crone,
Empty now of life and light.
The fire is cold,
And ashes are all that remain of her.
No inspiration, no hope, no star
Shines down from heaven.
No color but black and white -
All I see is grey.

Can cold ashes give new flame birth?
Can fire stir my soul once more?
I must wait and hope
For light reborn -
For she is the Phoenix, immortal.